The World's End
by Kefirah
Summary: Short COE - Day 3 "fix-it". What if the beans hadn't been ready?


**Summary:** What if the beans hadn't been ready? A short "fix-it" for Day 3 of Children of Earth.

**Characters:** Captain Jack H, Ianto J, Rhys W, Gwen C.

**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto

**Rating:** M

**Spoiler:** _Exit Wounds, Children of Earth Day 1-3_, reference to Doctor Who episode _Utopia_.

**Setting:** That scene in the make-shift Torchwood warehouse.

**Warnings:** Sexual content,

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters or plot lines, nor do I receive money from stories. Dialogue up to and including "Thirty minutes." is written by Russell T. Davies and James Moran ... It is not my own.

**A/N:** Thanks as always to my muse, my friend and my talented beta, **triquetralin**. This is the only thing I would ever change about anything in Torchwood canon. It's a one-off, definitely what I call CWC (Canon? What canon?). Sorry about yesterday's format debacle. Hopefully this looks better.

**The World's End**

They sat at their computers; Captain Jack trying to work, Ianto pecking at a few keys but showing little interest. Rhys was puttering behind them at the makeshift kitchen washing dishes, his tuneless humming echoing in the cavernous warehouse.

The captain saw Ianto finally turn in his seat, something evidently on his mind.

"What did it feel like? I mean, being blown up?" he finally asked, tentatively.

Jack's eyes rolled slightly. He did not want to answer this question. He contemplated coming back with his usual deflection, asking Ianto why he wanted to know, but he was working on his honesty, hiding less.

"It wasn't the best of days." Being honest didn't mean he couldn't be glib.

Ianto persisted. "No," he agreed, "but did you feel it? Or did everything just go black?"

Jack took a deep breath and finally turned to Ianto. He really couldn't be angry; he knew the young man wasn't being purposefully morbid, although there were days when he could be. Working for Torchwood gave them all a sick sense of humour. He could see the struggle to understand in Ianto's eyes.

"I felt it." Jack said quietly.

"Shit." Ianto turned away again, seemingly unable to bear the admission.

"Yeah."

Jack's attention went back to his computer screen, but the silence didn't last long.

"Do you ever think that one day your luck'll run out? That you won't come back?"

Ianto could always come up with the questions that ripped right to the heart of Jack's fears. This time, the young man couldn't possibly know that this was the one thing that Jack was now hoping for. That one day he wouldn't be waking up. But Jack couldn't admit that. Not now, not yet. So he gave the standard line he had been practising over and over.

"I'm a fixed point in time and space. That's what the Doctor says." Not just any doctor, a Time Lord who Jack had travelled with. It had taken Jack a hundred and fifty years to find him, to find out what had happened to him, what made him immortal and that it wasn't fixable. He was still getting used to the answer, not that he liked it any better than not knowing. "I think that means forever."

Ianto took that in. He was now leaning on the desk with one elbow. His computer had started its screen saver, ignored for the past few minutes. Jack loved watching Ianto in all his moods. Even relaxed, despite all they had been through, and in their jury-rigged surroundings, Ianto's pin-striped suit was unwrinkled, his tie perfectly knotted.

A furrow started in Ianto's brow as he thought out his next words, carefully, slowly. "So, one day you'll see me die ..." he paused, eyebrow quirking just so, "... of old age ... and just keep going?"

Jack wasn't sure which words choked him up more; "see me die" or "old age". He didn't want to think of Ianto dying. They were all still not over the deaths of Owen and Toshiko. Torchwood was a dangerous job and Jack had seen too many people die too young.

He also wanted to clutch desperately to the idea of Ianto growing old with all his being like a tiny stick of wood to keep him afloat in a vast and terrifying ocean, but he knew, deep inside, it wouldn't be. So many times he had shied away from the heartache of watching lovers grow old while he never changed. Now that he'd finally allowed his heart to let Ianto in, willing to risk the pain of loving him, he felt fatalistically superstitious.

He felt his throat start to close as he nodded. "Yeah ..." Let Ianto believe his own fantasy if he wanted. Who was he to burst that bubble?

But Ianto always surprised him. Whereas Jack's head was too often in the past, beset by memories, or too much in the future, dreading the losses he would live through, Ianto was firmly planted in the present and he never let go of a chance to appreciate the now.

"We better make the most of it then." He gave Jack a sad but hopeful smile.

Jack grinned warmly. "I suppose ..." His smile widened as his mind lingered on how to make things up to Ianto when they got out of all this – governmental agents trying to kill them and aliens demanding the children of the world. It was just a little too chaotic to concentrate on seizing the day right now. If Ianto could believe he would die a feisty, sarcastic, old man, Jack wanted to believe he could get his team out of this alive.

"Like right now?" It was Ianto's bedroom voice, seductive, mysterious. He had ways of saying things that never sounded like a come-on until he wrapped that beautiful voice around the words.

Reluctantly, Jack tried not to smile. Here they were in a cold, damp warehouse, aliens at the back door, violent government agents at the front and Ianto's voice had his cock dancing.

"Ianto," Jack tried to steer things towards the practical – feeling, for once, like the older, more responsible of the two. "The world could be ending."

"World's always ending." Ianto's eyes half closed, firing Jack's desire. "And I have missed that coat."

Jack couldn't fight it. Ianto being so seductive was always too much for Jack. He gave in to the inevitable.

The warehouse, while vast, was basically an open plan. They had set up screens of relative privacy around a tapped water main for the shower and two small corners with cots for sleeping arrangements. Even set across the hall from each other, there was little privacy.

If they wanted time together, Jack would have to find a way to get Rhys out of the hideout. Gwen was out on her own errands and wasn't expected back for a while.

"Rhys," Jack called back to the burly man, still clanging pots in the ad hoc kitchen. "Do you want to take the car down to those shops by the wharf? We need some discs for these things." He indicated the computers. "Should take about twenty minutes."

Ianto had turned back to the computer, trying to hide his anticipatory smile, his shoulders tense with desire. "Thirty," he said under his breath.

Oh god!, Jack thought. "Thirty minutes," he amended.

Rhys turned, wiping his hands on a large tea towel he had laid over his shoulder. "Ah, well." He looked reluctant at first, then shrugged in a carefree manner. "Okay. The beans need to soak another half hour or so before I can cook them anyways." He grimaced, glaring at the back of Ianto's head. "Thanks to the fact that someone bought bloody dried beans instead of canned."

He strode over and Ianto tucked himself closer to the computer table. Jack tried not to laugh. The young man must have as big a hard-on as he had himself. He kept one hand, casually draped in his lap as he showed Rhys which discs they needed.

"Need any money?"

"Nope. I'll be fine." He glanced at his watch. "Considering it's rush hour, I might be forty-five minutes if I get stuck in traffic."

"No hurry. Ianto and I will keep everything under control."

There was a snort from Ianto that Jack tried to ignore.

"Anything else you need?"

"Can't think of anything," Jack replied. He really couldn't. His mind was already peeling the suit and tie off Ianto and contemplating how many times each of them could come in forty-five minutes.

"Right, I'm off then."

The metal door had barely closed when Ianto stood up so abruptly his chair clattered to the floor. He was half out of his suit jacket by the time he reached Jack. With his arms still struggling with the sleeves, Jack's hands were around him first. He grunted as their bodies came together with a hard bump, teeth cracking as their mouths met hungrily.

They tottered backwards, steering drunkenly until Jack nearly toppled the trestle table that had the foodstuffs on it.

"Let's get behind the screen first," Jack said wisely, although it was a struggle to pull away from Ianto's lips. He shrugged his braces off his shoulders. As they rushed to Ianto's cot, he picked his greatcoat up off the couch.

Ianto chuckled deeply, his hands working their way up under Jack's shirt, cool fingers on hot skin. "Oh Jack, please tell me you do know the coat is a euphemism!"

The look on Jack's face proved that he hadn't known.

"You love my coat! You've said so a hundred times."

Ianto leaned in, crushing the coat between them. He couldn't resist teasing. "It's Welsh rhyming slang for your cock."

Jack laughed. They had made it behind the rough, hodgepodge of metal sheeting that screened off Ianto's sleeping corner. Tossing the coat on the cot, Jack expertly peeled off Ianto's tie and shirt, trying to make a point to remember where buttons and cuff links bounced. With Ianto's chest bared, Jack lost all sense of decorum and licked his way down the furred chest and belly.

"Doesn't rhyme, though."

"Well, I'm not Dylan Thomas." Ianto's fingers quickly unfastened Jack's trousers and he dropped to his knees out of Jack's grip, as he pushed trousers and pants down in one impatient movement. His mouth was soon too busy to say anything more.

Jack decided arguing with a Welshman, especially this Welshman, was never productive. He ended up in circles, dizzy, lost and outwitted. All Jack knew was he would never be able to put his greatcoat on again without imagining Ianto on his knees sucking his cock hard enough to make his legs buckle.

He had a hold of Ianto's hair, not needing to guide or steer him, but wanting to touch him in any way he could. Stroking down Ianto's back as he bent over, Jack's long arms could almost reach under the gaping waistband of his trousers, making Ianto squirm.

The warehouse was cool, causing steam to rise off their already heated bodies. Jack pulled away long enough to get them both naked. The cot creaked and wobbled as they lay down on it's narrow mattress.

"This thing is going to break," Ianto admitted. "Your coat is going to have to be pressed into service. I do not want to be concentrating on the damn bed."

Jack agreed and tossed the huge coat onto the floor, laying it out flat. They tumbled off the cot onto the thick soft fabric. It wasn't long enough to keep them completely protected from the cold floor especially with the passionate contortions that Ianto was in the mood for, but it was enough. Desire and body heat did the rest.

There was no time for taking turns. It was nothing less than a free-for-all, with limbs entwining, mouths and hands moving wherever they could reach.

Jack couldn't get enough of Ianto's touch, the taste of him. It was always like this, coming back from the dead, touch not seeming quite real for days after. It didn't always matter how long he had been dead, but it was always most vivid after a very painful and violent resurrection. Putting himself back together after a bomb going off in his belly certainly counted.

"Ianto," Jack breathed, his motions becoming frantic.

"I know, I know." Ianto gripped and pushed, fingers rough on Jack's sensitive skin. It was a different kind of pain that was needed and he knew this.

Ianto hadn't come away unscathed. He had made it to the top of Plass just as the bomb inside Jack had gone off. The y-shaped cut on his cheek was still tender and probably would scar. Jack kissed him there. Stroking down Ianto's body, he found scrapes and contusions on his back and legs, but Ianto pushed his hands away. He didn't want pity and concern. This was nothing. Compared to the passion, the love he felt, his wounds were always nothing.

The coat was forgotten as Ianto rolled Jack across the floor, both of them tussling and laughing. They hit the corrugated steel panel that made one wall, rattling it loudly. Ianto only stopped to make sure it wouldn't topple over onto them before going back to leaving bite marks down Jack's chest.

The rattle of steel and Ianto's teeth had Jack's nerves jittery. He was painfully aware of the time and it was pissing him off. Never enough time for those he loved. His gut clenched.

Ianto gripped Jack, fingers tight in the back of his neck, tongue licking the rough stubble on his cheek. He drew his body up over Jack's, drawing him back to the here and now.

"Fuck me, slowly."

"No time," Jack grunted, frustrated.

"I don't care." Ianto pushed up, rocking his hips against Jack's cock underneath his buttocks.

Groaning, Jack rolled back on top, easing Ianto's legs around his waist. Spit and sweat was all they had, but it worked. Pressed together, Jack thrust long and slow.

It was just what he needed. Lost in the rhythm, time and space shrank to encompass only them. To be so damn happy in this one perfect hour, Jack felt a flicker of guilt, but it wisped away at the touch of Ianto's lips. Their eyes locked and Jack fell instantly into Ianto's moment.

A clatter at the other end of the warehouse and Jack froze as they heard someone come in the door.

"That wasn't no damn forty-five minutes!" Ianto shouted inelegantly, the force of his voice vibrating through Jack from several points of contact. Jack groaned, but had to bury his face in Ianto's shoulder to keep from laughing.

"'S'all right boys, only me!" Gwen's laugh echoed before being cut off by static from the battery powered radio by the kitchen. A rock station was tuned in and the volume turned up.

Ianto considered yelling "thank you" but Jack's rhythm had started up again. He saved his appreciation for him.

"This is crazy," Jack gasped.

"Innovative," Ianto grinned.

"Exhibitionistic."

"That's never stopped you before."

"Not going to stop me now!" Jack grinned.

Ianto twisted bringing himself back on top. He moved his hips against Jack's, groaning at the deeper thrusts. Jack took hold of Ianto's cock and stroked him with fingers smooth and strong, the slightly calloused edges a sensuous tease on the glans. Ianto pulled Jack up against his body, every point of contact a fiery blaze of sensation – cock, arse, hands and mouth.

"Don't stop!" he gasped as Jack's hand and hips moved faster. Stifling his groans in Jack's mouth, Ianto felt his body tense, come spattering both their chests. Moments later, fingers tightening on Ianto's cock hard enough to elicit a squeak of pain, Jack's body shuddered as he came.

Jack drifted back into sensibility, bathed in sweat, eyes refocusing. Ianto lay on him heavily but it was a warm comfort. The smell of sex and sweat tickled his nostrils. Still wanting, he pushed Ianto to the floor and licked the salty sweat and come from his chest, moving lower. He needed the taste of him in his mouth, something to savour for the rest of the day. He ran his tongue over Ianto's cock and felt it pulse, slightly more flaccid now but still eager and willing.

Ianto groaned, his hips twitching. There was no denying Jack but time had reasserted itself. He could hear Gwen, restless for company, rattling about on the other side of the building. If Rhys didn't return soon, she might start finding excuses to interrupt them.

Propping up on his elbows, Ianto gazed down at Jack, who with eyes closed in intense concentration was aware of nothing but what was in front of him. Ianto's body was already responding, pleasure shooting up into his belly and down his legs.

"Jack," Ianto, loathe to interrupt, whispered.

"Mm?" The muffled query vibrated through Ianto's cock and he had to bite his lip.

"Oh god! Fuck it! As you were." Ianto dropped his shoulders back to the floor, eyes fluttering closed. Jack shifted closer, and Ianto's hand draped over the tall man's back, caressing, nails digging in with ecstasy as Jack redoubled his efforts. Conscious thought disappeared again, his body suffused with pleasure.

Far sooner than he expected, he was hard again, cock jumping every time Jack moved his mouth off to catch his breath. Ianto's fingers stroked between Jack's buttocks, but Jack had no intention of letting up.

Lost in pleasure Ianto wasn't aware his groans had gotten louder until he felt a hand pressing against his lips. Laughing, blushing, he took Jack's fingers into his mouth. Jack groaned again and Ianto bucked, knowing Jack could take him as deep as he wanted. His hands gripped Jack's hair, slippery with sweat, as his hips thrust against Jack's mouth. A sudden grasping of his balls, and Ianto felt himself come again, fast spurts in Jack's mouth.

The throbbing in his ears slowed, letting sound and the outside world in. Jack was draped over Ianto's body, cheek against his gasping chest.

"We should get up, maybe?" Jack suggested. The clattering in the kitchen had gotten louder.

"Oh shush," Ianto grinned, "World's not ending, yet."


End file.
